


Practice Makes Perfect

by harinezumi_kun



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Community: rainbowfilling, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 20:10:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1755967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harinezumi_kun/pseuds/harinezumi_kun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>yes, i know it hurts at first but it gets better</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Practice Makes Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> really, really exceptionally belated rainbowfill which i posted on LJ like over a year ago and am finally archiving here. for the prompt "practice makes perfect" :) inspired by a song, written on a whim, self-beta and maybe kind of reads like an excerpt from a longer fic. enjoy?

Jun breathes out another rough breath— _haa_ —through his open mouth. His arms shake, holding up him; his legs shake, splayed and propped at the edge of the bed, framing Aiba, who is kneeling there sweaty and naked, head bobbing. Aiba pauses for a breath, to reassess his angle. Then—it’s nothing, it’s just the way Aiba licks his lips absently and smiles up at him—and then, without meaning to, without being able to stop it, Jun comes and it gets all over Aiba’s face.

Jun has a few moments, as he’s coming down from his orgasmic high, to be feel fuzzily conflicted about whether it is really hot or really disgusting that Aiba has Jun’s come all over his face. Aiba just blinks, looking equal parts surprised and amused, and swipes a thumb across his own chin. After staring at it for a moment, he pops it in his mouth with a curious expression, the exact same way he might if it were chocolate or soy sauce on his finger instead of semen. 

And that’s when Jun freaks out. 

“Ug, gross—don’t—here,” Jun grabs at the box of tissues on the nightstand and thrusts it at Aiba. “Wipe it off properly. I’m—just—I’m gonna…be right back.” And then Jun gets up and tries not to flat out run into the bathroom.

Once in the bathroom, he doesn’t really know what to do with himself, but he’s kind of a mess, too, and the thin layer of sweat covering his body makes him feel gross and sticky, so he gets in the shower. The water is too hot, but Jun just lets it burn over his skin and drops his head against the tile wall.

He just had sex with Aiba. He just _had sex_ with _Aiba_. It’s weirding him out. It shouldn’t weird him out—he’s eighteen, he’s not a kid anymore, it’s not like he’s never had sex. But this is Aiba, and it all feels new and frightening, more important than the other times he’s had sex. Jun wishes he hadn’t come on Aiba’s face: it feels too deviant, too bold. And anyway, it wouldn’t have happened in the first place if he’d just been able to come when Aiba had been fucking him—but it had hurt too much. Jun feels embarrassment warm across his cheekbones at the thought.

Eventually Aiba finds him. Jun doesn’t hear the door open, but he hears the shower curtain being pulled aside, and Aiba’s timid voice asking: “Matsujun?”

Jun lets him in, and Aiba doesn’t touch him right away, which Jun appreciates. Even though they just had sex, Jun still feels strange, more exposed, even though they’ve seen each other naked before. After a few long minutes of silence and halfhearted scrubbing, Aiba speaks again.

“Are you mad?” Aiba tries.

Jun turns to him in surprise, then away again quickly. “No.”

After a pause. “Are you sorry we did it?”

“No!” Jun says immediately. He pushes his wet hair out of his face, and doesn’t know how to explain. It was good, it was really good. But. “I’m just…sorry it wasn’t better.”

That’s when Aiba finally touches him, wrapping long arms around Jun’s shoulders, and pulling Jun’s back flush to his own chest. And he says “Jun,” quietly, with the gentlest touch of reprimand, just _Jun_ , no nicknames and nothing attached.

_Nothing attached_ , Jun repeats to himself, and for a moment he thinks maybe he understands: Aiba’s enveloping touch, and the way Aiba loves—all warmth and willingness and clumsy first times; Aiba will always give whatever he thinks is most needed and will never expect anything in return—but then it passes, and Jun is kind of uncomfortable again, but he lets Aiba stay.

“It gets better, you know,” Aiba says. “We’ll get better.”

Jun makes a low _hmm_ in his throat. “Yeah? Practice makes perfect?”

“ _Lots_ of practice,” Aiba agrees happily.

“Idiot,” Jun says, when he means _I love you_ , but that’s not something you just go around saying. Instead, he makes Aiba turn around and starts working some shampoo into his hair.

“I love you, too,” Aiba says sweetly, and Jun just smacks his soapy head.


End file.
